


Lost in My Paradise

by Cunninglinguist



Series: Yours, Immortally [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV), hannigram - Fandom
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Body Worship, Bottom Will Graham, Canon-Typical Violence, Could Be Canon, Crying, Doctor Hannibal, Dubious Morality, Eye Contact, Forced Eye Contact, Gay Sex, Hanni kissing Will's scars, Hannibal Loves Will, Hannibal in Love, Hannibal is a Cannibal, Hannibal's tummy, Headcanon, Kissing, Love, Love/Hate, M/M, Male Slash, Maybe actually canon, Murder, Murder Husbands, On the Run, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Hannibal, Post-Canon, Post-Finale, Post-Season/Series 03, Rimming, Scars, Serial Killers, Serious Injuries, Slash, Some Fluff, Tenderness, Top Hannibal, Will Graham's tummy scar, hannibal spoilers, let's be real, tummy love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 06:52:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4696346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cunninglinguist/pseuds/Cunninglinguist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post S3 finale.<br/>What happens after Will and Hanni fake their own deaths to become murder husbands on the run? Some primitive first aid, emotionally stunted boys dealing with feelings, and lots of sexy times ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost in My Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> Standard disclaimer: I (sadly) do not own any of these beautiful characters, nor do I own "Hannibal," and I am not making any money off of this. This is purely for the enjoyment of my fellow Hannigram garbage can dwellers & anyone else who needs 6700 words of angsty murder husbands porn in their lives. Enjoy!
> 
> Also: This work is unbeta'd, so any and all mistakes made are my own.

Will looked at the man who stood before him, chest heaving, covered in blood. In that moment, he did not feel the searing anguish of the gash in his face, or that of the fresh wound in his chest. He did not feel the nausea, guilt, or horror that should be radiating from his soul after killing the Dragon. He was focused entirely on Hannibal, the man who understands him, and who has let him see his true self.

Will reached out for Hannibal, his fingers gripping his shirt for stability. Hannibal said hoarsely, “This is what I always wanted for you, Will. What I always wanted for both of us.”

Hannibal’s voice was riddled with raw emotion, and Will’s deep capacity to understand crashed over him. A sweet ache that bloomed in his chest and spread its warmth throughout his body. His breath came in heavy bursts as he crushed his body against Hannibal’s in a fit of pure empathetic passion, nuzzling his face in his neck, indulging in the pleasure of physical contact with the one person who he truly loved, deeper and realer than anything he’s ever known. He felt Hannibal relax into the embrace, and his relief and bliss surged into Will through the points where they were connected.  
“It’s beautiful,” Will whispered, attempting to mask the powerful surge of emotions coursing through his body. Squeezing his eyes shut, Will savored every moment of this embrace, committing it to memory Wordlessly, he definitively chose to be with this man, trying to pour his feelings into Hannibal with their contact. He knew that after doing what must come next, what he dreads but knows is necessary, he will never again leave Hannibal’s side. He felt Hannibal’s hands clutching him tighter, he knew Hannibal understood him. Without further preamble, Will hurdled them both off the cliff into the icy depths below, gripping Hannibal desperately, overcome with joy at their closeness and the prospect of finally being with the one who understands.

********************* 

The first victim they took together was out of necessity and necessity alone. They would not eat him, no—their first proper meal together in this new chapter of life would be someone special. Someone in particular, according to Hannibal. But for now, they needed a place to rest and dress their wounds.  
Will’s head, muscles, and fresh wounds throbbed; time passed in a hazy delirium. Hannibal’s presence was reassuring and solid beside him as they overtook the sole occupant of a lonely seaside shack, subduing him easily and dragging his body to the basement. When the initial adrenaline of the act wore off, they were freezing, exhausted, and nearly numb from the pain of their injuries. Few words were exchanged as Will stoked the already built fire and Hannibal located rubbing alcohol and a first aid kit. It was hardly the best-case scenario, but it would have to do for now.  
Once the fire was roaring in the hearth, Will stood, dizzy beyond belief yet strangely content. Slowly, he loped around the one-story building, making sure all of the doors are shut and the blinds drawn closed. Once this was done, he returned to the living room. His heart skipped a beat as he set his eyes on Hannibal, who stood in the doorframe opposite him, smiling weakly and holding up the first aid kit in one hand and indicating the blankets that he’s found and draped over his opposite forearm. Again, Will experienced all of his other, physically unpleasant feelings evaporate as he stared into the dark eyes of the man who had seemingly been knitted into his very core.  
Wordlessly, as if in a dream, Will began to walk towards Hannibal. His counterpart did the same, matching his pace until they were standing mere inches apart from each other before the great fire, eyes burning into each other. The joy rolled off of Hannibal in droves and set Will’s heart beating faster than ever. Hannibal broke eye contact only to set his things down before he stepped closer to Will and began undoing the buttons on his cold, wet shirt. Will gasped, forgetting about his wounds until Hannibal slid his shirt to the floor and it tugged uncomfortably at his drying blood. He grimaced.  
“I know it hurts,” said Hannibal soothingly, rubbing his chilled hands across Will’s bared flesh. “I have to stitch you up and get you warm.”  
Hannibal’s eyes followed his hands as they grazed lower, resting on his belt buckle. Will shivered at his touch, chest heaving. Hannibal’s eyes flickered back up to Will’s as he removed Will’s belt buckle and pants. Will decided against suppressing a sigh as he was entirely bared to Hannibal for the first time, but Hannibal quickly wrapped Will around the middle in a scratchy wool blanket and sat him on the sunken futon. He moved swiftly, his surgeon’s hands steady despite his own grievous wound, as he tenderly cleansed Will’s injuries and set to stitching him back together. Will’s heart swelled at the care being displayed. He could not recall the last time he was touched with such careful attention, and his eyes began to water at the thought. He sucked his inner lip between his teeth, willing the tears not to fall.  
Hannibal’s eyes were on his face, missing none of his emotions as he worked to stitch Will’s cheek. Though his head pounded and the stitches sent pain shooting through him, Will cannot help but blush. Hannibal smiled slightly and brushed the fingers of his free hand across Will’s unblemished cheek. “Not to worry, Will. I’m just about finished.”  
“Thank you,” Will croaked, his mouth dry. Hannibal smiled warmly.  
Once he was finished, he cupped Will’s face surprisingly gently in his hands. The hands that could take lives and save lives alike. Will shuddered almost imperceptibly. “Alright. All done. I am going to get you some water, and then I suggest that you take a shower.”  
Will attempted to return the doctor’s smile, but the pain and the tight stitches prevented this. “What about you?”  
“I’ll tend to myself while you shower,” Hannibal replied. “After that, I think we would do well with some rest.”  
Will nodded, averting his eyes and blushing again at Hannibal’s use of “we.” Warmth blanketed his insides, comforting him more than the wool throw around his body. He stood, becoming lightheaded again. Hannibal reached an arm up to steady him.  
“Thank you,” repeated Will quietly. He reached to take Hannibal’s hand in his and gently tugged him to his feet. Hannibal regarded Will curiously as Will took his hand to his lips and pressed a chapped lipped kiss to his palm, maintaining eye contact all the while. “I’ll get us both some water, so you can get started.”  
Hannibal smiled down at his palm, his eyes glowing in the fire, and Will felt his gaze burning into him as he walked into the kitchen to get the water.  
He returned as a now-shirtless Hannibal was dabbing alcohol on his wound, an angry and aggressive injury marring his side. Will’s eyes were wide, but Hannibal displayed no visceral reaction to the pain, not even a small sign of discomfort, as he cleaned himself thoroughly.  
Will set the glass in front of Hannibal and walked out to find the bathroom.

********************* 

Will lost track of the time he spent below the steaming water of the shower, his mind floating in and out of consciousness. Brief flashes of the life he left behind flickered to the forefront before being extinguished by images of Hannibal’s eyes, memories of Hannibal’s body against his own, and fleeting fantasies of Hannibal’s body moving above him. Occasionally, all thoughts are burned out of his mind by the searing pain of the hot water against his open wounds.  
Once he began to notice the pruning of his fingers, Will shut the shower off and toweled himself off. The door to the bathroom opened slightly.  
“Will?” came Hannibal’s low voice. “Everything alright?”  
Will wrapped the towel low on his hips. “Yes. Come in.”  
Hannibal stepped assuredly into the steamy room in just his wet, clingy boxers. Will did his best not to stare, but he might have failed. With another half smile, the doctor asked, “Feeling better?”  
Will returned the smile. “Much.”  
Nodding towards the door, Hannibal said, “ The bedroom is immediately to the right. You should lie down and get some sleep.”  
Will nodded, beyond overcome with exhaustion. However, he hesitated, chewing his lip, suddenly shy to look at Hannibal’s face. “Hannibal…” he said, pretending that his cheeks were burning from the hot shower, and not from something else entirely. “Will you….join me? After you’ve showered?”  
Slightly inclining his head forward, Hannibal responded, “Of course. Now, you need to rest.”  
Will didn’t stop smiling as he exited the bathroom, brushing his arm lightly against the doctor’s on his way out and closing the door behind him.  
The bedroom was right where Hannibal had indicated that it would be. The sight of an actual bed comforted Will to no end, and despite everything that has happened to them today, despite everything that has happened to them ever, Will crawled into the strange sheets and fell asleep almost instantly.  
At some point, much later in the evening, Will did not wake as Hannibal crawled into bed beside him. Bursting with the most joy that he has felt in recent history, Hannibal stared incredulously at the beautiful bare shoulder next to him before grazing it lightly with his fingertips. Hannibal fell asleep with a smile splitting his face.

********************* 

Will opened his eyes slowly, the unfamiliar smells around him filling his nose and reminding him of his strange surroundings. A heavy ache pulsated through his skull and the wounds on his face and chest throbbed. His throat felt dry. Plagued by this discomfort, Will groaned and rolled over. The sight that greeted his tired eyes caused his breathing to immediately hitch and his heart to swell impossibly in his chest: Hannibal Lecter sprawled on his back, face unlined and at peace in his sleep, with his bare chest rising and falling gently. Ecstasy began to seep through Will as he pushed thoughts of his circumstances aside and seized the opportunity to let his eyes roam shamelessly over Hannibal’s unconscious form. The doctor’s build was solid, his defined chest covered in a smattering of silvery hair that trails down to a slightly softer stomach, a charming side effect of his adoration of rich foods. Will was surprised to feel heat rushing south as he gazed upon Hannibal’s body. His heart rate quickened as his eyes move lower to Hannibal’s hips, covered only by a thin cover sheet, as he’d kicked the comforter and blanket to the end of the bed in the night. Will’s chest tightened at the knowledge that he was now privy to Hannibal’s sleep habits.  
He’d never shared a bed with anyone to whom he’s felt such closeness in the past, not even Molly—his heart grew heavy with a dull ache as thoughts of his wife rushed through his over-sensitized mind, adding to his throbbing headache. A wave of nausea washed over him suddenly, erasing all prior decent feelings. He violently kicked the sheets off and stumbled into the bathroom to dry heave into the toilet. God, his head was throbbing. The nausea didn’t cease. A huge anvil of cold fear dropped into Will’s belly and settled there as the implications of choosing Hannibal hit him at full force: he was a fugitive. A criminal. A killer. He had killed Dolarhyde. He had liked killing Dolarhyde, and he had liked doing it with Hannibal. His stomach twisted as he thought of the cooling body of the owner of this strange little house beside the sea, who he had helped Hannibal off easily in the adrenaline-fueled insanity that immediately followed swimming for their lives after faking their own deaths. “This is my….becoming,” he had said…was it only a matter of days ago? It felt as though it had happened a long time ago, in a distant land, to someone else.  
He had felt like he meant it at the time, he had felt like he knew what he was going to do, but that was before…. before he was what he is now. Someone that Molly and Wally wouldn’t even recognize. Oh, Molly and Wally….thoughts of his family were a dagger twisting in his heart, a linoleum knife tearing through his insides… He heaved into the toilet again.  
Molly…he had wanted that life with her, that normalcy, but what most people would take comfort in as normalcy always felt like an ill-fitting suit to Will; maybe the sleeves were too long, or he could never close it fully over his chest. The nagging feeling that he was concealing his true self constantly tugged at him as he tried to adjust his imperfect suit of normalcy, like a hangnail catching on a sweater. Will had known, even if he did not want to know, he had known that his life with Molly and Wally was imperfect. Something had been missing. And his dogs…oh, his heart cracked in his chest to think of his beloved pack, the animals who had loved him with no judgment long before any human had.  
Will braced himself on the toilet, suddenly awash with grief for the normal, Hannibal-free life he had tried so desperately to fit himself into. Instead of providing stability for Molly and Wally, he had exposed them to Hannibal’s wrath, to Dolarhyde’s avenging hand. Their lives would have been much better without him. Why had he ever thought anything different?  
He felt hot tears dripping onto his skin before he realized that he had been quietly crying against his forearms, mourning the things and the connections that had never really been his.  
Had he known all along that he’d end up here, alongside Hannibal, rather than staring him down on the opposite side of the chessboard? Had his fate been sealed that day in Jack Crawford’s office at the BAU, or had it been later at the Hobbs residence? What did it matter now, anyway, when the only certainty in his life was the certainty that he and Hannibal were inextricably linked from now on?  
Though he mourned the normalcy he had tasted but would never taste again in a downward spiral of doubt and self-loathing, thinking of Hannibal began to ground him. Hannibal, who had cleaned his wounds with heart wrenching tenderness, whose beautiful design Will had finally seen and fully understood, who craved closeness to Will more than anything…the bright ache that had enveloped his heart the previous night and that morning upon awakening to Hannibal’s peaceful visage returned to Will. As he felt his nausea ebbing and subsiding, Will stood and rinsed out his mouth.  
Naked as the day he was born, Will walked to the kitchen to fill a new water glass and before returning to the bedroom. As he sat down on the bed, Hannibal rolled over to face him. Will held his gaze as he slunk back beneath the covers to shield his lower body from view.  
“You’re awake,” said Hannibal with an air of amusement, his eyes shockingly soft.  
“That I am,” replied Will, smiling.  
“How were your dreams?”  
Will furrowed his brow. “Surprisingly nonexistent.”  
Hannibal gave him a pointed look. “Well, that’s something new for you. You must have been exhausted.” He reached forward to lightly graze the area by the dressing over Will’s stab wound, making his slighter counterpart shiver. “Feeling alright here?”  
Will nodded. Hannibal’s fingertips moved to his face. “And here?”  
Will nodded again. The fingertips moved down, hesitating before brushing across Will’s lips. Will’s stomach flipped pleasantly at the intimate touch and his cock stirred beneath the covers, two sensations that directly contradicted the regretful, mournful thoughts he had experienced only minutes earlier. As he searched Hannibal’s eyes with his own, he realized that they were completely open to him for the first time. The intimacy of the moment completely overwhelmed Will’s abnormal capacity for empathy.  
Sensing Will’s distress, Hannibal moved his fingers to Will’s cheek. “What’s wrong?”  
However, the concern in Hannibal’s voice only added to Will’s overloaded senses, and the sheer volume of feelings caused Will to shift slightly and avert his eyes. He was flayed alive, bare and exposed, completely at Hannibal’s mercy. He was mildly alarmed to find that the idea of this didn’t bother him. In fact, he realized uncomfortably, he rather liked it.  
“Will,” Hannibal’s soft voice brought him back, driving the conflict that surged within him closer to the killer beside him, closer to the feeling that picking Hannibal had been the right decision. Hannibal’s fingers continued to stroke his unmarred cheek. “Will. Look at me, Will.”  
Blushing despite himself, Will forced himself to meet Hannibal’s gaze. The look on the doctor’s face floored him, yet again: open and gentle, full of something that could only be described as, much to Will’s continued incredulity, adoration.  
“Hannibal,” Will started hoarsely, suddenly overwhelmed with the burning desire to be as close to Hannibal as possible. He reached up and touched the hand that touched his face. His blood rushed throughout his body, making his extremities tingle and his cock begin to swell.  
Sensing Will’s need, Hannibal propped himself up on one elbow and closed the distance between their lips. It was a soft, chaste kiss, but this particular type of contact in this particular area sent electricity surging through Will. Burning from the inside out with sensation, Will exhaled shakily before returning the kiss vigorously, parting Hannibal’s lips with his tongue. He felt everything that Hannibal had been holding back in this kiss, their tongues frantically sliding together in a perfectly imperfect rhythm, warm breaths passing between their mouths.  
Hannibal’s free hand came to rest on Will’s bare shoulder first before slowly trailing down his side, carefully avoiding his most recent chest wound, making every last tiny hair on Will’s body stand at attention. Will sighed against his lips, slowly snaking his hand up Hannibal’s arm, feeling his warm body beneath his trembling fingers. The delirium that he had experienced the previous day returned in full force with none of the haze, crushing his headache and the pain from his wounds in its wake.  
The two new lovers explored each other in tandem, carefully and agonizingly slowly to avoid straining their injuries. Will was panting soon after, his arousal at full hardness as Hannibal’s lovely, sure fingers explored his arms, his chest, his stomach, and his plush lips gently kissed his lips, his face, his neck. Will’s own desire intermingled with Hannibal’s, settling in his chest and spreading throughout his entire body like wildfire.  
Hannibal’s breath was hot on Will’s neck as he gently rolled him onto his back. Hannibal carefully covered Will’s body with his own, propping himself up slightly with strong arms to avoid applying pressure to either of their injuries. A thin layer of sweat had already broken out across Will’s brow as the physical sensations collided with both of their desires; his breath came in even shorter bursts as he looked up at Hannibal above him, somewhat in disbelief of what he was actually seeing. How many times had he envisioned this, had he brought himself off to images of the good doctor hovering above him, taking control? He let out a moan at the thought.  
Hannibal smiled treacherously at Will as he gently, teasingly, brought his hips down to meet his partners, brushing their flushed arousals together for the first time. At the maddening sensation, Will’s hands flew up to grip Hannibal’s biceps tightly as he let out a small, “Ah!”  
Hannibal’s head dropped slightly as he buried his nose in Will’s curls, inhaling deeply and audibly. “Oh, Will,” he murmured softly, rolling his hips torturously. There were far too many stimuli, and Will screwed his eyes shut in a futile attempt to regain control of his breathing, exhaling harshly in and out of his nose as he gripped Hannibal’s arms tighter.  
Continuing the slow, luxurious undulations of his hips, Hannibal slowly kissed Will’s face, starting with the scar on his forehead, down to his cheekbones, the tip of his nose, both eyelids, his chin…heat flooded Will’s face and he leaned into Hannibal's worshipful caresses, desperate for more. Soon Hannibal was slowly moving down Will’s body, ever mindful of their injuries, planting open-mouthed kisses on his sensitive neck, sucking from his collarbone all the way down to his nipples. Will arched his back off the bed and grit his teeth in an attempt to stifle a pathetic-sounding mewl, but to no avail. The stitches in his cheek pulled, but that sharp pain only added to the overload of sensation.  
“Will.”  
Will’s vision was slightly murky with tears as Hannibal’s voice pulled him from his overwhelmed reverie. He stared down his own to where Hannibal rested, between his parted thighs, red lips hovering inches away from his trembling navel. In Hannibal’s eyes Will saw every trick, every deception, every hurtful decision repaired and made right—just like Hannibal’s favorite proverbial teacups.  
“Will, do you want me to go on?” Hannibal asked, thumbs circling Will’s sharp hips gently. Will was painfully hard, and he was both mortified and fascinated by the pearly drop of precome that beaded at its tip.  
Will nodded dazedly, arching his back so that his cock slid against Hannibal’s chest hair.  
“Will,” Hannibal tried again, forcefully squeezing his hips and pulling a low moan from his overwhelmed lover. “I need to hear you say it.”  
“God, Hannibal,” cried Will, frustrated by the lack of friction where he needed it most. “Yes, yes, go on.”  
“I don’t want to hurt you,” replied Hannibal, sliding his hands lovingly up Will’s flanks, smirking in satisfaction at seeing him so wound up.  
“Christ,” said Will shakily. “When have you ever cared about that before?”  
Hannibal suddenly sat up and moved back on top of Will, caging his body, and leaned down for a bruising kiss. Both lovers pulled away panting, and Will could see through the haze of his lust and tears that Hannibal was full of sincerity. “I don’t want to hurt you Will,” he repeated. His eyes narrowed and darkened as he slipped back down between Will’s thighs, which parted even more to accommodate Hannibal.  
Hannibal kissed down Will’s stomach, his tongue flicking out to taste his navel, before mouthing across the long, thick scar on his lower abdomen. Will let out a strangled cry, bringing both hands to Hannibal’s head, running his fingers through his hair as he watched the doctor attentively.  
Hannibal looked pointedly up at Will, gazing into his eyes as he licked slowly against the scar. “I want to make you feel good,” he murmured, returning his full attention to Will’s stomach. He ran two of his fingers lightly over the scar, kissing it again and again, whispering over and over, “I’m sorry.”  
The tears returned to Will’s eyes tenfold and he tightened his fists in Hannibal’s hair. “God—“ he choked out. His head fell back and he turned his eyes towards the ceiling, gritting his teeth and blinking back tears as his heart broke and came back together again.  
Hannibal’s breath ghosted teasingly across his impossibly hard cock before he turned his attentions to Will’s long legs, kissing his inner thigh gently before bending it to access his calf, his ankle, the top of his foot, his instep. He administered the same treatment to his other leg and Will gasped out his breaths, his cock pulsing against his own stomach, begging to be touched.  
Hannibal sat up on his knees, framed by Will’s spread legs. Smiling gently at him, rubbing the tops of his thighs, he bent down to kiss Will’s wet lips. Will grabbed at the back of his head and moaned into his mouth. Desperately, he attempted to arch up and rub his cock against Hannibal, but the doctor just hummed against his lips and held his hips down with force.  
“What do you want, Will?” Hannibal was mere fractions of an inch away from Will’s face.  
Will bucked against Hannibal’s powerful grip and threw an arm over his face, emitting a desperate sounding whine and biting his lip. He felt Hannibal’s hand move from his hip before closing around his erection and stroking upwards once. Will’s eyes flew open and he shouted out as his toes curled and he arched violently off the bed. It was too much, but at the same time it just wasn’t enough.  
“What do you want, Will?” Hannibal repeated the question, lightly rubbing Will’s cock with his palm before gripping it tightly once more for three firm strokes.  
Fingers twisting in the sheets, Will blurted out, “God, fuck me, please, fuck me.”  
Hannibal smirked and bent down for another kiss. This time Will propped himself up on an elbow and forcefully gripped the back of Hannibal’s head to really smash their lips together. He tried to convey everything he was feeling—the anger, the forgiveness, the sadness, the joy, the love—in this fiery kiss. Hannibal murmured in surprise as he returned the kiss in earnest, slipping his tongue into Will’s mouth as though he were laying claim to it. All the blood rushed from Will’s head to his groin.  
That’s just what Will wanted him to do.  
Yanking Hannibal back by the hair just enough so that he could speak against his wet, parted lips, he snarled, “Fuck me like you’re making me yours.”  
This pulled another groan from those luscious lips. Hannibal closed the distance between them with a growl and rolled his hips so that Will could feel his own pulsing arousal, which left a sticky trail against his thigh.  
With a strength Will had only known in the context of bloody fights, Hannibal grabbed Will’s hips and flipped him so that he was face down on the bed. He let out a pained groan as his stab wound made forceful contact with the mattress, but he turned his face so that his injured cheek remained free from pressure.  
Hannibal pulled his hips up and forcefully spread Will’s knees apart so that his left cheek and chest were pressed firmly to the mattress but his plush ass was high in the air. Will had to suck his excess drool back into his mouth at the show of force. His whole body was on fire; he was hyper aware of everywhere Hannibal touched.  
Hannibal ran his hands up the backs of Will’s thighs to his rear, grasping the ample cheeks and pulling them apart, stimulating and exposing the most intimate area of Will’s body. Will slammed his eyes shut and panted hotly as he felt Hannibal’s breath against him, and then Hannibal was forcefully holding his cheeks open and running his hot, wet tongue over the tight muscle over and over again.  
Will tensed up at first, unable to control his cries of passion and surprise at the brand new sensation—no one had ever done this to him before—but soon his tight hole was relaxing beneath Hannibal’s talented tongue. Will’s cock ached as Hannibal continued his ministrations, massaging Will cheeks and moaning against his hole as he alternated circling just outside the entrance with dipping the pointed tip of his tongue just inside.  
All ability to think coherently had left Will’s body; he was left with pure sensation and empathy alone, both phenomena colliding like two ill-fated stars to create a the most incredible ecstasy. A supernova built at the base of his spine as Hannibal licked into him incessantly, applying the same gusto and skill that he afforded all of his endeavors, savory or otherwise.  
Will was vaguely aware of the puddle of drool pooling on the mattress as he pushed his hips back against Hannibal’s face, seeking out even more sensation, as impossible as he thought that was. He was crying out continuously now, his voice breaking and his balls tightening up as he felt the beginnings of an earth-shattering climax in his balls and in his belly.  
Suddenly, Hannibal pulled back, panting. Will came spiraling back down to earth with a strangled shout, ignoring the ache in his shoulders and in his most recent wounds to push himself up onto his elbows. Rather, try to push himself up onto his elbows: he found his arms nearly unable to support him, having turned to jelly during the mind-bending experience.  
Hannibal quickly kissed both of Will’s cheeks, rubbing them gently with his palms, before kissing up Will’s spine slowly. Will trembled like a leaf below him, biting his lip and sobbing out for him as he felt Hannibal leaning over him, caging his body once more, mindful as ever of the wound.  
“Ah!” cried Will as Hannibal’s rubbed his thick cock up and down the cleft of his ass, catching against the overly sensitive rim on every pass. Hannibal leaned down to press a kiss to the base of Will’s head before snaking his arms under his pliant body and flipping him onto his back. Will stared dumbly at him in a haze of pure physical sensation as Hannibal hopped off the bed, hard cock glistening and bouncing. With a look that could melt the clothes off of just about anyone, Hannibal grabbed Will by the hips and dragged his body to the edge of the bed, so that his ass reached the side. He pulled Will’s legs straight up in a V shape before resting each ankle against his corresponding shoulder. He smoothed his hands up and down Wills legs, taking a moment to kiss both ankles before sticking his index and middle fingers into his own mouth, sucking lewdly while staring into Will’s clouded eyes.  
Breathing hard, Will shut his eyes, barely able to look at Hannibal’s lascivious display, willing himself not to come on the spot. Seeing his own legs spread obscenely wide & knowing that he was completely exposed to Hannibal didn’t help to calm him down. His cock ached, his asshole ached, and all the blood in his body was concentrated below his waist. His heart was pounding and his mind was full of what could only be described as exclamation points at the shared sensations between himself and the man between his thighs.  
“Will.” He felt Hannibal’s spit slicked fingers pressing against his hole and screwed his eyes shut even harder, his mouth falling open in a silent cry. “Will, look at me.”  
For the second time that morning, Will forced his eyes open and found himself short of breath: Hannibal’s chest, neck, and face were flushed red from his efforts and arousal, one hand tightly gripped his right ankle and the other was between his legs, fingers pressing insistently around the loosened muscle, but not quite entering. Will moaned again and arched into the contact, rolling his hips until the tips of Hannibal’s fingers were gently breaching him. Overcome with the feeling of being stretched for the first time in years and years and years, Will knew he should take it slow, but he craved more. He rocked down, gritting his teeth in pain as he forced Hannibal’s fingers deep inside of him.  
Hannibal’s brow started to furrow in concern, but Will just moaned, “Please,” and continued to fuck himself on those long, gorgeous fingers. Soon, Hannibal had slipped a third finger inside of Will, rubbing his prostate with every stroke, the pleasure counteracting the burning pain of being stretched too wide too soon. Will had to remember to swallow his saliva as the incredible sensation overtook him.  
“Christ,” Will choked out, clenching his asshole around Hannibal’s fingers. His cock dripped pearly fluid onto his trembling lower abdomen. He flexed and pointed his toes, his knees knocking in with the pleasure. “Hannibal, I—I’m ready.”  
“Will,” breathed Hannibal, looking overwhelmed himself, as though he were incredulous of the fact that Will was giving him his body at all, never mind the fantastic feeling of having his beloved gasping for him. He withdrew his fingers with all the self-control he had. “So eager.”  
Will opened his thighs even more, stretching his arms overhead. His face was flushed and slick with sweat, his chest heaving, his curls messily framing his face. He couldn’t control his breathing and willed himself to maintain eye contact with Hannibal as his lover spat into his own palm, slicked up his sizable erection, and positioned himself to enter Will for the first time.  
“Remember,” gasped Will thickly. “Like you own me.”  
All the concern and tenderness on Hannibal’s face disappeared as his eyes narrowed. He gripped Will’s ankles almost painfully tightly, making Will inhale sharply, before sliding his wet arousal into Will. At the first breach, Will tensed up, fisting his own hands in his curls. Hannibal paused, but only for a moment, before continuing to push into Will, inch by inch.  
“Oh, Will,” sighed Hannibal. “You feel so good.”  
The supernova that had threatened to tear Will apart earlier returned threefold: one originated at the base of his spine while the other bloomed in his heart, and the last one threatened to pour out of his straining cock at every push of Hannibal into his body. When Hannibal was halfway inside, he pulled out until just the head remained inside Will, then pushed in further, fully seating himself. Will made a punched-out noise and gripped his hair even tighter, his back arching and his toes pointing. His mouth hung open in bliss as Hannibal repeated the thrust, picking up speed and increasing the depth on each go.  
Will’s head thrashed from side to side as he writhed on his lover’s thick cock, the pleasure-pain already threatening to bring him to completion. Hannibal increased the force behind his thrusts, snapping his hips forward to fill Will completely before pulling almost entirely out and pushing back in, regularly hitting Will’s prostate.  
Then the room was filled with nothing the sound of Will’s continuous moans and Hannibal’s labored breathing, in addition to the lewd, wet sound of skin slapping against skin and the bedsprings protesting under the force of Hannibal’s thrusts.  
Hannibal’s hands had begun to sweat, though he maintained his tight grip on Will’s ankles, spreading his legs as wide as they would go. His lips were parted as he grunted and gazed in awe at Will’s display of wild abandon beneath him: Will was lost in it, his lovely face contorted by the efforts of his pleasure, crying out over and over, his hands twisting in his hair, then in the sheets, then sliding up and down his sweat slick thighs as he arched and met Hannibal’s thrusts. His cock remained swollen and untouched, bouncing against his tight stomach. Hannibal reached down to touch Will’s heavy balls, then to touch the place they were joined. Will groaned at this, his asshole tightening around Hannibal as he continued to drive into him.  
Inspired by the sounds of Will’s pleasure, Hannibal tightened his fists around Will’s ankles hard enough to bruise before bending Will’s legs and coaxing them to wrap around his waist. He then bent in half and slid his hands up Will’s body to his arms, forcing them over his head again and holding them down with all of his strength as he drove into him. He laid his body firmly across Will, his lovely stomach rubbing sweetly against Will’s arousal. Will’s toes curled against his back and he cried out at the change in angle, reflexively arching up where Hannibal pinned him down. Hannibal growled and latched his lips to Will’s sweaty neck, sucking hard before biting.  
“Ah! Hannibal!” cried Will, pleasure shooting through both his and his lover’s body as he was marked. Hannibal groaned in ecstasy and moved his lips, sucking bruises above his left nipple first, then sucking it into his mouth and biting down.  
Will screamed and thrashed, rubbing his cock frantically against Hannibal’s stomach, his arms fighting to break free.  
“Will,” Hannibal grunted thickly against his lover’s ear. “Say my name. Tell me who you belong to.”  
“Hannibal!” Will cried without pause, circling his hips desperately, writhing, his cock deliciously slippery against Hannibal’s stomach. “God—you, Hannibal!”  
Hannibal tightened his fingers around Will’s forearms as though he wished to leave bruises to match those on his ankles. He increased his thrusts, his cock slamming against Will’s prostate every time. Will was approaching the point of no return, climbing higher and higher with each thrust, each pass of his slick cock on Hannibal’s gorgeous stomach, each painful dig of Hannibal’s blunt nails into his forearms.  
The pleasure overtook Will. His eyes filled with tears as Hannibal held him down, moving his hips to meet Hannibal’s intense thrusts. “Hannibal, Hannibal!” He cried out, closing his eyes in bliss as he felt his balls draw tight and his hole clenching around the unbelievable cock inside of him. Stars and colors exploded behind his eyes as he neared his peak, his own hands curling into fists so tight that his nails dented his palms. “I---I—oooh—“  
“Will,” panted Hannibal. He released Will’s arms to cup his face in his hands. Will let out a strangled noise. “Will, open your eyes.”  
Using every ounce of strength and sanity left in him before he hurdled over the edge of delirium, Will opened his eyes and met Hannibal’s electrifying, possessive, and reverent gaze. Will squeezed his thighs tight around Hannibal’s body and brought his hands up to Hannibal’s face, pulling him close enough so that they panted into each other’s mouths.  
“Yes, Hannibal, oh yes,” Will gushed, tears flowing freely down his flushed face. Hannibal rested his forehead against Will’s, thrusting hard and fast into him before angling Will’s face up and panting, “Will, my Will, come for me.”  
At that, Will’s entire body seized up. His stomach flip flopped like he was falling, his eyes crossed and rolled back in his head, every seam holding his emotions back ripped wide open and exploded as he screamed Hannibal’s name and came thickly between them, coating Hannibal’s stomach copiously.  
“Beautiful, so beautiful,” sighed Hannibal into Will’s hair, voice straining with self-control as he fucked Will through his powerful orgasm. Once Will was shaking and limp, face streaked with tears, throat hoarse from screaming, Hannibal let himself go, pulling Will’s hair and sucking a bruise onto Will’s neck to stifle his cry as he finished deep inside of him.  
Will was floating on a high of sensation, a raft in a sea of feelings that belonged to both himself and Hannibal. Hannibal propped himself up on his elbows to avoid collapsing onto Will as he regained his breath from his climax, smiling tiredly down at Will before swiping the sweaty hair from Will’s brow and kissing him on the lips.  
Will returned his smile, then his kiss, still completely overwhelmed from the experience of having sex with Hannibal, of being as physically close as he could possibly get to the one person with whom he shared the most profound emotional and spiritual connection. None of it mattered anymore; not the past, not the stitches that had evidently torn in the wound on Hannibal’s side and allowed blood to seep through the gauze during their coupling, not Molly, not Dolarhyde, not Jack, not the FBI, nothing mattered but Hannibal, and being with Hannibal, the man who had killed for him and would kill for him, over and over, until the end of time.  
After a while they stopped kissing, and Hannibal gently pulled out of Will before easing himself onto the bed next to Will with a groan. He swiped his fingertips through the mess on his belly.  
Will looked over at Hannibal and cocked an eyebrow. He reached for Hannibal's sticky fingers and brought them to his lips, sucking each one clean. Hannibal hummed in approval.  
Will glanced down at Hannibal's bloody bandage pointedly. “How’s your, er, gunshot?”  
Hannibal glanced down to the bandage and groaned again. “I’ll need to check the stitches and redress it. I will take a look at yours as well.” He laughed a little, an unfamiliar sound that sent warmth shooting through Will. “We should have something to eat now, too, I think.”  
Will nodded before offering Hannibal a genuine, lopsided smile. “I’d say that was worth it, wouldn’t you?”  
Hannibal’s hand found Will’s above their heads, tangling their fingers together as he held Will’s gaze. “I would say so.”

**Author's Note:**

> As you can see, this is my first published Hannigram fic. Kudos, comments, & constructive criticism are all welcomed and encouraged! I adore these two beautiful, twisted fools, and I had to write this after the ocean of Season 3 finale feels....depending on if y'all like this, I am debating making it into a series. I might just go ahead and make it into a series anyway. 
> 
> Title is taken from lyrics of Jakalope's "Tell Me Why". Here's the link, if you want to listen to it (you should, it's awesome): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vhEAMKmGed4


End file.
